Split
by Writeous
Summary: The Ghost has won every battle he's ever fought. Every battle, except one. The one against himself.


"Come on, who did he name himself after? Who did he come from? Who got him out of those stupid hero dut-"

"That was _me_! All of that! And _you_ would still be trapped in your weak human form if not for me!_ I_ made us into what we are today!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, who got _you_ out of _your_ weakling human form then, hmm?"

"You couldn't have done that if it wasn't for me! In fact, you'd still a huddled, grieving mass if _I_ hadn't saved you!"

"Stop it." The Ghost muttered. His hands ached from clutching his head so hard. He jerked it from side to side. "Please, just… stop."

The voices were silenced for a second, before one said scathingly, "Pah! Look at you. A begging, pathetic _mess_! See what Phantom's done to you? If you just let me-"

"Oh, what _I've_ done to him?" The words echoed throughout The Ghost's mind, making him squeeze it harder. He felt his hair start to sizzle under his fingers. The crumbling roof under his boots seemed to shake from the reverberations. "What have _you_ done to him, Plasmius? You've-"

"I've given him powers you couldn't dream of, boy! I've given him the brains you've never had. I made this," The Ghost's left arm was wrenched unwillingly from his face to sweep the surrounding miles of ruins. "possible! You were always too weak, too-"

"I said, _stop it!_" The Ghost yelled, his frustration cutting Plasmius's voice off. "Just let me think for one _friggin'_ moment!"

"But you are thinking, remember?" Phantom's voice taunted him in the recesses of his mind. "_We're _you."

"For once," Plasmius muttered. "The moron's right. Remember who's in charge here, Daniel."

"Hey!" Phantom's voice merged with The Ghost's, parroting each other in an eerie harmony. "Don't call him that." Phantom murmured. "He hasn't been Daniel Fenton for ten years."

The Ghost's eyes widened under his fingers. He raised his head. "Yes," he whispered. "I haven't been Daniel Fenton for ten years."

"There we go." said Phantom. "See, Plasmius?"

Plasmius huffed loudly. "Oh, and who made that happen, may I ask?"

"I did!"

The Ghost continued as if he hadn't heard them. "And I gave up being Vladimir Masters ten years ago." The Ghost ignored Plasmius's sharp intake of breath.

Phantom's voice broke the delicate silence. "Yeah. No more pesky human emotions, right? That's what we wanted."

"And who enforced that? Who got it done?"

"Stuff it, Fruitloop. Aren't I supposed to be overshadowing you or something? You shouldn't even be talking."

"And you're doing such a great bloody job of it, aren't you, Daniel?"

"Fine! You want to do this? Let's do this. Right here, right now. Come on, Plasmius. Chicken?"

"Yes, Daniel." Plasmius said dryly. "Because fighting each other while we're merged will end _so_-"

"SHUT UP!" The Ghost shrieked. "Just shut it already!"

In that moment, something in The Ghost snapped. The end of his words started to transform, getting shriller and sharper, turning into a deafening roar. It extended outwards from The Ghost, louder and more destructive than a bomb could ever be. Across the abandoned street, a line of buildings collapsed in on each other.

When the… the _wail_ stopped, The Ghost was left winded. He rocked back on his heels, breathing heavily.

"Well." Phantom commented mildly. "That's new."

"In all my thirty years..." Plasmius thoughtfully mused.

The Ghost cut him off. "Yeah. That was new, wasn't it? And you want to know why?" The Ghost asked, livid. Not waiting for a reply, he said, "That's because I stopped being Danny Phantom ten years ago, and I stopped being Vlad Plasmius ten years ago." A sickly grin worked its way onto The Ghost's lips. "It's because it's time for the rule of the one and only Dan Phantom." He lifted up, his legs turning into a ghostly tail, hovering over the rooftop he had been pacing only minutes before. "And it's long overdue."

The Ghost set his sights on the soft, distant glow of Amity Park's ghost shield. In the back of his mind, Phantom whispered smugly, "He chose my name, Plas-" His voice turned into a startled yelp as it was smothered by The Ghost's own thoughts.

"Remember who's in charge here, boys." The Ghost said savagely.

When neither replied, The Ghost dived down; reaching out for the one spot of color nestled in the crumbling, rubble-filled pavement. A moment later, he was swooping upwards, fingers closed over the smooth, faded blue metal of Tucker's old PDA. He flipped the sleek steel switch up, and set it to _message_. The Ghost took a deep breath.

"Hello Valerie."

* * *

**AN**

**Well. That's certainly not my best work, but it'll do.**

**Dan fascinates me. He's so complex, and awesome, and tragic, and... Well, you guys don't want to hear me ramble. We could be here until Christmas 2019.**

**Please review! I'd love to hear your feedback!**


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